A Rescue in Ebou Dar: A WOT Fan Fiction
by Backwoods80
Summary: A young man in Ebou Dar will risk everything to save a beautiful damane from the clutches of the a'dam and the brutal Seanchan. A bit long, but hopefully makes an enjoyable read for fellow WOT fans! I'd appreciate any and all feedback!
1. Chapter 1

**A Rescue in Ebou Dar**

A commotion woke him up. Someone was talking, but the words were muffled. He tried to open his eyes, but they were too heavy. His head felt full, as if he had wool stuffed in his ears. Trying to move produced a dull ache and a feeling of tightness in his midsection. He could feel that a heavy blanket was pulled up to his neck and tucked into the mattress. Beneath him, the bed was firm but not overly uncomfortable. He could smell just a hint of smoke, likely from a fireplace close by. His mind searched for answers but found only darkness. Vaguely he remembered pain, but nothing else.

Slowly, the voices in the room became clearer. A woman was speaking.

"…wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him!" Frustration filled her voice. "He saved me!"

"It was _we_ who saved _his_ life!" A new voice spoke, another woman's and much harder than the first. "If you hadn't brought him here he would still be lying under that tree bleeding to death."

A tree…he remembered looking up through the branches as the sun broke through the clouds above, remembered how calm it had seemed. He had known there was something wrong with his body but that seemed so far away from the clearing sky overhead.

"Both of you be silent!" The shout brought him back to the present. The voice that spoke now had a commanding presence. A woman's voice as well, yet deep with age. "I will not have bickering at a time like this! Marella, it is because of you that this man is here. And because of us all that he is still alive."

Marella. An image came to him. A young woman, dressed in a plain green dress, kneeling in front of him as he lay beneath the tree. Her dark hair was falling into her face, but her green eyes were locked to his. Something was wrong. She was beautiful, yet sad.

"How do we know he'll even live?" The question washed away the image. It was the second voice again, still hard even after being chastised. "He's made little improvement since we Healed him."

"We have no Yellow among us. We did what we could for him." The older voice spoke, this time without the fury of before. "If he is to pull through, it will be by the will of the Creator."

With what seemed like all of the strength in his body, he slowly opened his eyes. At first all he could see was bright light, not a single beam, but a full glow that engulfed his entire vision. He blinked once, then again. Each time the brightness faded and objects began to appear. He saw a torch held in a metal bracket beside a small table, but quickly looked away as the dancing flame hurt his weak vision. He looked down at himself. The blanket covering him was of thick wool. He could see the mounds his hands and feet made through the snugness of the blanket. Another blink and three figures came into sight, standing at the foot of his bed.

The one closest to the bed had her back to him. She wore a deep blue dress, with an even deeper blue shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was grey and spilled down her back in long waves. Across from her stood a woman in a cream colored dress, the high neckline ending just below her chin. She absently twirled the end of the blood-red shawl that draped across her shoulders. Her face had a chiseled quality to it, her pronounced chin emphasized even more by her tightly pursed lips. Hair the color of gold ended just below her neck and was held in place by a red ribbon. The third woman stood to the side of the other two. She wore a green dress of simple cut with no shawl around her shoulders. Her head was down, dark hair hiding her face. He knew it was Marella.

"We cannot stay here," the woman in the red shawl began. "Once reports get back of what happened, they will scour all the local towns. People talk. It will not be long before they find this inn."

"And what would you have us do with him?" The older woman pointed absently to the bed. "Leave him to die?"

"You can't!" Marella's head came up instantly. "Please, Saerane Sedai!"

Leave him to die? The words hit him like a bucket of cold water. If he could just make some kind of sound, some movement to get their attention. With every bit of energy he tried to move his hands. Just lift them a tiny bit…

"Child, you will watch you tone when speaking to a Sister!" The red-shawled woman turned to face Marella. "It is regrettable, but he would only slow us down."

His hand twitched slightly. They had to have seen it. He tried again. It was as if his muscles were made of lead. So heavy, but he knew he could move them if he just tried.

"This man did save Marella." The woman in blue sounded tired, yet still commanding. "You Reds are so quick to despise any man, even those who risk their lives…"

With one hand free, he was trying to pull the blanket away from his body when the woman in blue had stopped. He had been too engaged in trying to move that he had not seen her turn to face the bed. She looked down at him, eyes wide with surprise. Her face seemed too young for her grey hair, but had a wizened quality about it. A small grin crept to her lips.

"I am certain he would love to hear your plan, Esenia." The woman in blue glared accusingly at Esenia. The Red looked confused for a moment before she too turned to face the bed.

He fixed his gaze on Esenia, looking her directly in the eyes. Immediately her cheeks crimsoned and she pursed her lips tight.

"This changes nothing." With that, the Red turned her chin up defiantly and walked to the door. "It appears the Creator is not without a sense of irony." She shut the door loudly as she left.

His eyes quickly found Marella. She stood at the foot of the bed beside the older woman. He could see her green eyes, beautiful just as he remembered them.

"This young man is quite remarkable. I am sure you would like to talk with him, child." With a light touch to Marella's shoulder, the older woman left the room.

It had taken most of his energy to get their attention. Now he lay panting on the bed, his head swimming from the exertion. Small specks of light danced across his vision and for a moment he thought he would lose consciousness. Then Marella was there. He didn't remember seeing her move, but she was sitting beside him on the bed, one hand smoothing his hair. He tried reaching up to touch her beautiful face but his arm fell back to the bed.

"Just be still, Jarik," Marella said with a smile. "You've been through so much. Esenia Sedai was sure you were…" She left the word unspoken. _Dead_.

He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Marella…what…happened?" It felt as if he hadn't said a word in some time. His throat was dry and his voice sounded like a croak.

"They said you might have some trouble remembering," Marella began. "Your wounds were so severe and we have no Yellow sister with us. The weave was sloppy, but it was the best Healing we could do. What do you remember?"

He closed his eyes and tried to think. "A tree…and you." That was all he could come up with. It was like trying to grasp something in the dark that was always just out of reach. He wanted to remember more, to know what had happened to him, and why these women had taken him in. Suddenly he felt something, like a string pulling in the back of his mind. It tugged, lightly at first, then with more force. A feeling of cold washed over him and slowly his mind opened.


	2. Chapter 2

The streets were filled with people; merchants hawking their goods from behind heavily loaded carts, patrons both rich and poor making deals or leaving empty-handed, small children scampering through the throng, darting in and out of shops. And of course the Seanchan.

They had occupied Ebou Dar for over two months now, and the inhabitants of the city were slowly becoming used to the sight of Seanchan soldiers with their strangely shaped helmets and even stranger beasts. The invasion had happened so quickly that most of the townspeople had been unable to leave the city before the gates were closed. Surprisingly however, only small pockets of fighting had broken out and many Ebou Dari woke up the next morning to find their city already under Seanchan control. Yet as the days went by, Ebou Dar began to reopen. The Seanchan worked to restore a sense of normalcy to the city, even going so far as to distribute goods from their own ships to the townspeople. But it was still the Seanchan who patrolled the streets, still the Seanchan who controlled Ebou Dar.

Jarik leaned against the front door of his two-story building. The image of a sword with a money purse lying across it was painted on a wooden sign above the door. Merchant protecting was a family business. Jarik's father had a chapter house in Caemlyn, while his two older brothers had houses in Tear and Illian. Jarik had founded his own in Ebou Dar only two years back, but had quickly established a reputation as being the best in the city. Merchants hired him to escort them safely through the countryside to neighboring towns and villages, even as far as Amador or Lugard. He prided himself not only in safety but in speed as well. The faster his clients made it to their destination, the faster he could be hired again. And there were always customers. Even the Seanchan became interested in him.

Jarik had been forced to open his doors to a Seanchan patrol on the second day of their occupation. Through a rough translator, Jarik had finally convinced them that he was in fact a legitimate businessman with customers waiting for his services. He was given a letter to present at the gates whenever his business required him to leave the city. Over time, the Seanchan began to inquire about the surrounding towns and villages and would often ask him to accompany a small group of soldiers into the countryside. Unfortunately, Seanchan payment was much less than that of his regular customers.

A warm sea breeze blew through the crowded street, rustling Jarik's sleeves. Business had been slow as of late, just a few trips through the city and up the North Road. Two days ago, a group of three silk merchants had hired him to see them safely to the Rahad. What their interest was there Jarik had no idea, and if his customers were not willing to say, he never asked.

The sun was still high in the blue midday sky so Jarik decided to take a walk. A patrol of ten Seanchan soldiers was marching down the middle of the street, the crowd parting to let them through. Jarik watched them go by. The discipline that the Seanchan employed, especially in crowded streets, was amazing. Never once had Jarik seen Seanchan soldiers harm anyone or senselessly destroy property. The officers gave orders and their soldiers obeyed.

Jarik walked down the middle of the street, in no particular rush to get anywhere. He passed Nulo, the smell of fish caught that morning permeated the air around the small man's cart. Alera stood outside her shop's front door and smiled at Jarik as he passed. Her dress store was never lacking in patrons, people from all over the city came to buy the low-cut elaborate gowns she sold. Jarik had to admit that Alera looked quite stunning in her own dresses, but he had enough respect for her as well as her husband Rabaro to only look and return her smile.

A few dozen paces down the street from Alera's, Jarik saw an all-to-familiar face talking to a group of merchants. Porthian was fat and had an affinity for wearing bright, flourishing clothes that made him look like someone had stuffed a greased pig into a gleeman's cape. He was a merchant protector as well, although he never had the amount of business that Jarik did. Porthian had an all too nosey air about him, and often would come by Jarik's house to inquire about his latest undertakings. The fat man also seemed to think everyone in the city enjoyed his presence, when in fact, most felt the same as Jarik.

Wanting to do anything to avoid Porthian, Jarik decided his best option would be to take an alley and circle around the street. He ducked in between two large buildings with one last glance to make sure he had not been seen.

The cacophony of the main street seemed to die down in the closeness of the alley. Three and four-story buildings lined either side. The alley itself was surprisingly clean; a few wooden crates were stacked against the wall of one of the buildings. As Jarik came to a corner he heard talking. Actually, it sounded more like scolding. He paused and leaned out to look around the edge of the building. A woman in a bright blue dress with lightning bolts down the front was facing a kneeling woman, this one in a plain grey dress. A link of chain connected a bracelet on the woman in blue to a collar around the neck of the kneeling woman.

"You _will_ learn obedience! No matter how long it takes, you will learn what it means to be _damane_!" The woman in blue held the leash with both hands. Her face was red from yelling.

On her knees, the other woman was sobbing, her shoulders shaking, her head down. In a weak voice, Jarik heard her say, "I will be obedient. Please, don't hurt me anymore."

The first time Jarik had seen a _sul'dam_ with her _damane_ had been shocking. But as time passed, these leashed women and their handlers had become as commonplace as the Seanchan soldiers in the street. He knew how powerful these women were, but he had never seen anything like what he was witnessing in the alley. It was like watching someone beat a dog. He never wanted to get involved in Seanchan affairs, but he felt he had to do something. Taking a deep breath, he turned the corner and walked toward the two women.

"I don't mean to intrude, but what would drive two women into the back of an alley like this?" Jarik walked with a swagger that was completely superficial; inside he was a storm of nerves.

Immediately the two women looked at him. The one in the blue dress appeared to be about ten years older than him, while the woman in the grey seemed near his age. Both had dark hair, the woman in blue had hers pulled back tightly. Her eyes were daggers as she stared at Jarik.

"Boy, this is none of your concern. Now go back the way you came."

"I would," Jarik said, "but you see, I'm trying to avoid someone."

The girl in grey was still on her knees, her face was red and tears still ran down her cheeks. She looked as though she'd been in a fight, but there were no visible marks on her. Jarik had little experience with the One Power, but he had heard that wielders could inflict pain through invisible weaves. There was no way for him to know how long this had been going on but it seemed too long. He thought that if he could keep the conversation going, he could at least spare the girl a few minutes from the pain.

"This is between me and Jula here." The woman in blue shook the leash.

"Well, I'm sure she didn't mean any harm." A voice inside Jarik was screaming at him to stop talking and walk away, but he held his ground. "And it looks to me like she's learned her lesson."

The girl in grey, Jula, looked up at Jarik with big green eyes, rimmed with redness. Jarik thought he saw a look of gratitude briefly in those eyes. Beside her, the woman in blue looked first at Jarik, then down at her _damane_. Her eyes narrowed.

"Jula," she began, "this young man feels that you have learned from your punishment. Is he right?"

For a moment Jarik thought that he may have unwillingly set more pain on the girl.

"I have learned. It will not happen again." Jula lowered her head meekly.

The woman in blue bent to pat the girl's dark hair. "Jula is new to the _a'dam_, but she will come to know how a proper _damane_ should act."

"Yes, Jula will be good." The sound of resignation was unmistakable in the girl's voice.

"To your feet, Jula, and thank the young man who has helped you learn." The woman tugged on the leash and the girl rose slowly, as if in considerable pain.

"Jula thanks you for your kindness," she said. The tears had stopped, leaving her green eyes clear as she looked at him. Disheveled and battered, she was still beautiful.

Jarik made a deep bow that would have impressed even a gleeman. "Your humble servant. The name is Jarik."

The woman in blue smiled at Jarik. _Smiled!_ He wasn't sure if she thought it a kind gesture, or if she was going to kill him!

"Come Jula, we've more training to do." With that, the two women walked around Jarik and turned the corner.

When they were out of sight, Jarik's nerves finally let loose and he slumped against the wall, trying to keep from passing out. _Who in their right mind would stand up to a sul'dam, especially one who was punishing her damane?_ Jarik couldn't help but laugh, a giddy, almost mad laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few weeks, Jarik crossed paths with Jula and her _sul'dam_ several times. They were usually walking with columns of Seanchan soldiers, patrolling the city streets. Jula always walked meekly in front of the _sul'dam_, the leash connecting the two dangling in between. Jarik would greet the _sul'dam_, bowing his head slightly, and in the process casting a glance at Jula and the link of metal around her neck. She seemed to be unhurt, but she would look down as soon as her eyes caught Jarik's. A few words of minor conversation would pass between him and the _sul'dam_, and then he would be on his way, but not without a smile for Jula. The last time Jarik ran into them, the _sul'dam_ gave a knowing smile.

"Jula likes seeing you," the woman in blue said as she stroked the girl's hair. "Her feelings are no secret to me." The metal leash jingled as she shook it gently.

It was after that meeting that Jarik made up his mind. He was not sure how, but he was going to free the girl.

He had no idea how the _a'dam_ worked. In the brief exchanges with Jula and her _sul'dam_, he had tried to get a good look at the collar but had seen only an unbroken band of metal. If the collar went on, then there had to be a way for it to come off. To find out how, he would have to ask the Seanchan themselves.


	4. Chapter 4

The Golden Wharf was a well-respected establishment, renowned for its honeyed wine. It sat just off the main pier of Ebou Dar, looking out to the sea beyond. The tavern, and its brew, was the favorite of many high-ranking Seanchan officers. It was there that Jarik found himself, tipping cups with Captain Yukaro of the Ever Victorious Army.

"That lot is like to kill you for so much as looking at them wrong!" Yukaro's slurred way of speaking was vastly increased by the amount of wine he had already consumed. Jarik had gotten to know the man from his constant comings and goings through Ebou Dar's main gate, where Yukaro was stationed. "I'd rather fight enemies with sword and spear than with magic, but the _sul'dam_ are powerful, no doubt about that."

Jarik nodded as he took a drink from his cup. Yukaro was a grizzled veteran of hundreds of battles in Seanchan, or so he claimed. Whether or not that was true was of no concern to Jarik. The Captain liked to drink, and Jarik needed information.

"The _sul'dam_ don't sleep next to their _damane_ do they?" Jarik filled Yukaro's cup up with more wine. "I mean, that seems a bit awkward with a leash between the two."

Taking a drink, Yukaro shook his head. "No, no. The new _damane_ all stay in one building together. That big storehouse by the mill. Believe me, I'm thankful I don't have to guard that place…all those women who can channel!"

"So they take the collars off? That has to be dangerous to leave them unleashed." Jarik hoped he wasn't pushing too much, he wanted information but too many questions would look suspicious.

"The collars stay on," Yukaro began, then belched loudly before continuing. "The _sul'dam_ take their bracelets off and hang them on a peg in the _damane's_ room. But if those girls try touching the collar or bracelet they wish never had. I've heard of _sul'dam_ coming in to find their _damane_ writhing on the ground in pain or even dead."

That was not what Jarik had wanted to hear.

"So how do they get the collars on in the first place, if no one can touch them?" Jarik took another sip from his own cup, still his first.

"The collar only hurts the _damane_, if they try to remove it." Yukaro looked around the common room with glassy eyes, then leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Don't tell no one about this, but there is a small release button on the back of the collar. _Click_ it goes, and off comes the collar."

"How do you know this?" Jarik had to be careful, if this man was feeding him a lie or making it up…

"The Battle of the Ford in Seanchan," the Captain said. "My men destroyed Rylaryk's army and his _sul'dam_.The reward is high for captured _damane_. We took eight girls back to the Empress, along with the heads of eight _sul'dam_." He grinned slyly as he took another swig from his cup.

Jarik had all he needed. With a well-feigned yawn he pushed away from the table.

"What's the matter boy, had too much?" Yukaro laughed as he poured more wine into his already full cup.

"Yes, I have had enough." Jarik stood up and dropped five silver coins onto the table. "The drink is on me tonight, Captain. See you at the gate."

And with that, Jarik walked out of the tavern. His head was spinning, but not from drink. He knew that if he did what he was planning, there would be no coming back. His house would be lost, his business closed down, and he would have to say goodbye to Ebou Dar forever. When he went to bed that night, he saw those green eyes, and knew what he must do.


	5. Chapter 5

The early morning sky was still dark, the smell of distant rain carried in on the sea breeze. A few venders were in the street setting up their shops for the day's market. Jarik walked quickly, but not too quickly, down the road leading to the mill. If he timed it right, he would arrive at the storehouse just as the guards' shifts were changing. He had spent several mornings watching the guards come and go and saw that they always met at the front door to discuss the previous night's events. This left the rear door unguarded for a few precious moments.

It had been Jula's _sul'dam_ that unknowingly gave Jarik the final piece of information he needed. Four days prior, he had seen the two women in the street and made a comment on the day's sunshine. The _sul'dam_ had told of how Jula's liked her room because of the perfect view of the sun rising in the morning. It took one trip past the storehouse to see exactly which room the _sul'dam_ meant. If all worked out as Jarik had planned, he could get in to the building and leave with Jula before the guards completed their switch.

The storehouse loomed three stories into the dark sky. It was made of the same grey stone as the mill that stood beside it. As Jarik approached, he could see the three Seanchan soldiers walking their circuits around the outside of the building. A small stone wall, no more than two feet high, ran along the perimeter of the structure. Jarik crouched behind the wall and waited.

He tried to calm his breathing, keep his heartbeat slow. If everything went smoothly, he and Jula would be out of the city by midday. If things went bad…he tried not to think about that. He ran a hand over the small dagger concealed within his coat. Not the sword he was used to carrying, but it would have to do for now.

A call went out from the front of the storehouse. Jarik had no idea what the words were, but he knew they meant the guard was changing. He looked over the stone wall and saw three Seanchan soldiers walking up the path leading to the building. From either side came the three old soldiers, tucking their helmets under their arms. Jarik watched as all six soldiers stood together at the front door of the storehouse, talking and laughing. Without a sound, Jarik slid over the wall and jogged toward the back of the storehouse.

The rear door was unlocked, as he knew it would be. With the ever-present guards, the Seanchan had little fear of anyone escaping or entering without their knowledge. Inside, the air was heavy with the smell of grain. The main room still held the mill's stores, huge sacks of grain piled to the ceiling. Jarik made for the stairs in the center of the room. The _damane_ quarters would be on the second floor.

As Jarik reached the top of the stairs he saw a long hallway lined with doors. From outside he knew exactly which room was Jula's, but in the dim light it was difficult to get his bearings. He counted five doors down along the eastern side of the hall. The fifth was hers. Quietly, Jarik made his way to her door. A small, half-moon shape was cut into the wooden door. Jarik looked in and saw a small, confined room. In the corner stood a chair, a wash pan had been placed on the seat. The other corner contained the bed. A small figure in a grey dress was curled up on the mattress, a link of metal leading from the collar around her neck to the bracelet hanging on the wall. With a creak, Jarik opened the door.

Immediately, Jula sat up in her bed. Those green eyes that had so often been filled with sadness were now filled with something else. Hope.

"Don't move." Jarik went to her side and pulled her dark hair away from her collar. He felt a rush of fear when he saw the metal. What if Captain Yukaro was wrong? What if there was no release? What if this hurt her? Swallowing hard, Jarik touched the underside of the collar. It was cold, but nothing else. Jula sat perfectly still, making no cries of pain. Then he felt it, a small depression in the metal. Jarik pushed it. With a _click_ the collar opened and fell onto the mattress.

Jula gasped and jumped out of her bed. She made for the door, but Jarik grabbed her before she could run out.

"Jula, I'm going to get you out of her, but you have to listen to me and stay close." Her eyes darted around the room then found his.

"My name is…Marella." A tear rolled down her cheek. Jarik wanted nothing more than to hold her, but he knew time was of the essence.

"Will you trust me?" Jarik held her face in his hands. With a sigh, she nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Jarik held Marella's hand as they made their way through the hall and down the stairs leading to the ground floor. As they reached the rear door, Jarik paused to listen. Faintly, he heard the soldiers talking. They were still at the front of the building. He opened the door and led Marella outside.

The sprint across the grass to the stone wall was agonizing. Any second the soldiers would see them and raise the alarm. But suddenly they were at the wall and climbing over. Jarik and Marella made their way to the next building, a blacksmith's shop.

"Stay right here," Jarik said once they were safely behind the building. A small crate sat beside two large wooden barrels. Two days ago, Jarik had placed it there. He reached inside and pulled out a long green dress. The color had been Alera's choice. When Jarik told her that he needed to buy a dress for a special girl, the woman had practically overwhelmed him with choices. But in the end he settled for something common, a dress that could be seen and easily forgotten.

"Here, put this on." Jarik handed the dress to Marella, then turned around to watch the storehouse. Three soldiers were walking away from the building, while three others were beginning their rounds. He watched as one of them came to the back of the storehouse, pivoted on his heel, and walked back along the side. The escape was clean. No one knew he had been in and taken a _damane_.

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet, but not as meek as it had been so many weeks ago.

Jarik turned around and saw just how beautiful Marella truly was. The green dress brought out the color in her eyes in a way that nearly took Jarik's breath. Her dark hair spilled softly over her shoulders.

"Much better than grey." Jarik took the old dress from Marella's hand. "You'll never have to wear this again." Rolling it up, he stuffed the grey material into one of the barrels that contained rags the blacksmith used for stoking his forge. "We're not safe yet, not until we're out of the city."

Jarik took Marella's hand once again. Together, they walked casually out into the street. The sun was just peaking above the horizon and people were beginning to start their day. No one looked twice at the young man and woman walking down the street. But soon the _sul'dam_ would find an empty room. When that happened, the city would be turned upside down. Jarik hoped to be long gone by then.


	7. Chapter 7

It felt somewhat strange to see his house, knowing that it would be the last time he did so. He brought Marella inside and allowed her to sit down while he gathered the things they would need. On their walk back, Marella had talked a bit, giving Jarik some insight into how she had come to be a _damane_.

She had been traveling with a group of Aes Sedai on a recruiting trip through Ebou Dar when the Seanchan had invaded. Her sisters had managed to escape with the help of their warders, but she had just been an Accepted and had no warder to aid her. The Seanchan had captured her and immediately forced her into the collar. Her _sul'dam_ had been responsible for making sure she was properly trained. The day Jarik had first met her, Marella was being punished for refusing to follow a command given by her _sul'dam_. Since that day and the pain that followed, Marella had obeyed and learned her place among the other _damane_. But at night, she always prayed that somehow she would be free from the _a'dam_.

Marella was sitting at the front table when Jarik returned. She seemed more at ease now, less frightened.

"The horses are ready." Jarik had purchased a four-year-old mare the previous day and had her saddled up along with his own mount. "I have everything that we will need to get us far away from Ebou Dar. We'll stay off the main road and make our way up to Tar Valon. Hopefully your sisters made it back there safely."

Jarik helped Marella onto her horse. She sat well and told Jarik her father had owned several horses back home in Amador. That made things a bit easier. The guards at the gate were more likely to believe she was a silk merchant on her way to Altara if she rode her own horse.

It was midmorning when they set out from the house. The sky was grey and the wind had begun to pick up. As they neared the main gates out of the city, Jarik's nerves came back. He had to tell himself that this was no different than all the other times he had left the city. As long as he acted normally, the soldiers would believe his story.

Captain Yukaro was on duty that morning, his eyes puffy from a night of drinking. Jarik had his paper ready when the Captain held up a hand.

"Good morning, Captain," Jarik said calmly. He handed the paper to Yukaro, just as he had done countless times before.

"And where is this pretty young lady headed?" The man's breath stunk of honeyed wine as he looked over at Marella. He handed Jarik's paper back to him.

"On her way to sell silks in Altara," Jarik began. "Said she needed the best protector the city had, so here I am."

Yukaro laughed loudly. "Have a safe journey. Madame." The Seanchan captain nodded his head and waved them on.

Jarik held his breath until they were beyond the gate. When his horse's hooves finally hit dirt he let it out. He looked behind him at what used to be his city. Maybe he could join his brothers in Tear or Illian after he had seen Marella safely to Tar Valon. Maybe he could go back to Camelyn with his parents. Wherever he went, he knew he could never return to Ebou Dar.


	8. Chapter 8

They were about five miles outside of the city when Jarik heard the horn. He turned in the saddle to see a squad of ten Seanchan soldiers coming over the hill behind them. They were mounted and in full armor. Jarik's stomach dropped. He had to try and outrun them. Beside him, Marella had a terrified look on her face.

"What do we do?" Fear filled her voice.

"We ride as hard as we can." He was just as scared as she was, but he wasn't going to let them take her back. "I know this land. There's a forest a little more than a mile away. If we can get there we can lose them."

Jarik spurred his horse on. Marella did the same. Hooves pounded in the soft dirt as the horses rushed across the countryside. The wind whipped Jarik's cloak and filled his ears, but he urged his horse faster. Marella was clutching to the reins of her mount, dark hair streaming behind her. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Jarik that the Seanchan were chasing, their huge stallions racing over the hills.

Ahead, Jarik could see the forest. He knew the woods well, knew the game trails and streams. If they could just get there…

The horn blew again. Jarik turned to see the Seanchan had closed the gap considerably. He dug his heels into his horse and ducked low on her back.

The forest trees greeted him with a sharp slap. As he and Marella bounded into the woods he took the lead. It was madness to storm as fast as they were into a forest so Jarik slowed his horse to a gallop. Branches snapped under hoof as their mounts carried them up hills and down slopes.

Trees blocked Jarik's vision of their pursuers, but he knew they were still behind them. Marella had a small cut on her cheek from a branch, but she was still in control of her horse.

Suddenly, Jarik's mare stumbled. The animal lost balance and fell, spilling Jarik from the saddle. A cloud of dead leaves and dirt flew up as Jarik slammed into the ground. He slid for a few feet before coming to rest against a fallen tree. He stood up and shook the dizziness away. His mare was already up, unfortunately she was tearing off through the trees on her own. Jarik looked for Marella and saw her reign up and turn back towards him. He knew they would never outrun the Seanchan on one horse. She had a better chance of getting away on her own.

"Marella, listen to me." Jarik unsheathed his sword. "You ride north as hard as you can. At the end of this forest is a town. Rest your horse there, then keep riding."

"No, I'm not leaving you!" She was starting to get down off her horse.

"Marella, please," Jarik said through clenched teeth. "I can hold them up for a time. But you need to get out of here!"

She sat there looking down at him. Tears welled up in her green eyes. Eyes that Jarik thought he might never see again. "Thank you, Jarik. Thank you." With that, Marella spun her horse around and rode off through the trees.

Jarik waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he saw the Seanchan. He reached down and picked up a long, thick branch from among the leaves. Crouching behind a tree he waited until the soldiers got close enough.

The sound of the horses' hooves was deafening and shook the ground as they neared. The first rider came into sight. Jarik leapt from behind the tree and aimed the branch at the soldier's chest. With a loud _crack! _the branch slammed into the rider. The impact knocked Jarik from his feet, and the soldier from the saddle. Jarik stood up quickly, his sword in hand. The man he knocked from the saddle wasn't moving. But the other soldiers were coming to a stop. One jumped from his horse, sword held in both hands. The others tried encircling Jarik on their horses, but the trees prevented that. With a yell, the soldier on his feet rushed.

Swords clashed in a clang of steel. Jarik blocked the soldier's first blow aimed at his head. The next came in low, but again Jarik parried. The soldier overextended on his third thrust and Jarik seized the opportunity. He brought his sword down in an arc, slicing through the man's armor along his side. The soldier twisted and fell to the ground, blood spreading quickly across the dead leaves. Jarik had only a moment before two more soldiers ran at him.

The swords came fast, both soldiers striking at different times to avoid getting in one another's way. Just as Jarik defended one blow, a second was coming. A searing pain shot up his leg. One of the blades had gotten through. He turned, positioning his wounded leg behind him, just in time to block another sword thrust. His arm began to burn from the exertion, his breathing was ragged. In the back of his mind he thought briefly of Marella and hoped he could give her more time.

Without warning his leg buckled, throwing off the timing of his block. Before he could recover, he saw the blade coming in. He tensed his stomach muscles instinctively, but the sword slid deep into his belly. The Seanchan pulled it out just as quickly, and Jarik's legs collapsed under him. He fell to his knees, clutching a hand over the blood leaking from the wound. The remaining soldiers had dismounted and were walking towards him. He looked down to see his shirt was stained red and blood was beginning to run down the front of his legs. Small black specks darted across his vision. The soldiers came closer, their blades drawn.

Suddenly a bright flash of light filled Jarik's eyes. The two closest Seanchan were hit directly in the chest with balls of flame. They fell to the ground, and lay motionless, tendrils of smoke rising from their bodies. The other soldiers had just enough time to put their hands in front of their faces as more flames engulfed them. Jarik watched as they twisted and screamed before falling among the other dead men. Then the world began to spin. He put a hand down to steady himself, but his arm was weak from the blood he had lost. He would have fallen flat on his face if the arms had not been there to grab him.

Jarik was pulled along the forest floor for several feet to a nearby tree. The hands under his shoulders gently rolled him into a sitting position with his back against the tree. Suddenly the world came back into focus. The pain in his stomach was a dull ache, as if someone had punched him, but the blood continued to flow from the wound. His shirt was completely soaked, the blood leaving the cloth wet and clinging to his skin. Then the hands came again. He watched as they tied a length of green cloth around his middle and tied it off behind his back. Jarik looked up and saw a beautiful face.

Marella was working with grim determination. Blood covered her hands and had dripped onto her green dress, but she seemed not to care. Her hair kept falling in front of her face, hiding her eyes. Jarik gently reached a hand up to tuck a loose strand behind her ear.

"Marella." It hurt to talk. "You…came back."

She had stopped working when his hand touched her face. Now she looked at him with those green eyes, sadness filling them. She tried to speak, but choked on the words.

"Please," Jarik began, "Get as far…away…as you can. Leave…me…here."

"No." The word came so quickly it surprised him. "You save me, Jarik. Now I'm going to save you."

A gust of wind stirred the leaves of the trees. Jarik looked up at the weak rays of sunlight breaking through the thick white clouds, and smiled. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind in the trees. Then the world went out.


	9. Chapter 9

The cold rushed out of Jarik and in its place was a feeling of…completeness. The wound in his stomach had stopped aching, and his head felt clearer. Beside him, Marella smiled. She had his hand in hers, squeezing tenderly.

Jarik sat up in the bed. For the first time since waking up he actually felt awake. The small room seemed brighter, as if someone had pulled open a shade that had been over his eyes. Looking around the room, questions began to fill his head.

"Marella," he started slowly, "how did you get me here? And where did those Aes Sedai come from?"

"I stopped the blood as best I could," Marella began, "then rode north like you said. I had to hold onto you to keep you from falling out of the saddle, but finally the trees cleared and I saw the town. The inn where we are now was the first building I came to.

"The innkeeper and his wife helped carry you to this room, and brought water and cloth for bandages. They never asked what happened, but said there was a woman who may be able to help. I watched over you until they came back. You were so pale." Marella sniffled briefly before continuing.

"Then, a knock came at the door and in walked Saerane Sedai and right behind her was Esenia Sedai. They had been in the group of Sisters I was with when the Seanchan invaded and…took me. Saerane Sedai told me they had been waiting, trying to come up with a plan to find me. In the end, it was _I_ who found _them_."

Jarik realized with a twinge of guilt that he had unwittingly put them all at risk. The Seanchan would soon send out another patrol and discover the bodies of the soldiers in the woods. That would lead them here.

"Then the woman in the red shawl is right," Jarik admitted. "You have to leave here as quickly as possible. When the Seanchan come, you have to be gone."

Marella looked deeply at Jarik. "You can come with us."

"No, I don't have the strength to ride. That Aes Sedai was right; I would only slow you down." Jarik knew it was true. If he could somehow convince the Seanchan that he acted alone maybe they would give up their search for the escaped _damane_.

"There is a way," Marella looked at Jarik. "A warder is able to heal much faster through the bond he shares with his Aes Sedai. I have not been raised yet, but I know the green shawl is for me. If you were bonded to me the Sisters would have to let you come with us."

Jarik knew the stories of Aes Sedai and their warders. Most were tales of heroics in battle, warders saving the lives of their Aes Sedai. They told of how the men were willing to lay their lives down for the women they protected. He thought back to that morning in Ebou Dar, freeing Marella from the Seanchan, then the fight in the woods. He had been willing to do anything to keep her safe.

"I don't ever want to leave you Marella." Jarik knew he could never go back to Ebou Dar, his home. He knew only that he wanted to be by Marella's side, always.

The party left the inn that afternoon. Saerane Sedai rode at the front of the column, her warder scouting half a mile ahead. Beside her was Esenia, scowling and ready to bite the head off anyone that so much as looked her way. She had not been pleased with the situation, but in the end she was forced to give in. Behind the two leading Aes Sedai came three more sisters; one with a white shawl around her shoulders, and two with green. The green sisters' warders rode on either side of the group, watching the side of the road. Bringing up the rear of the column rode a girl in a plain green dress accompanied by a young man, bandages still around his midsection.

The bonding had been intense for Jarik, but afterwards he was amazed at how energized he felt. It had been as if he had rested for a week or more. His limbs were no longer heavy and tired, and his wounds were healing quickly. However, the strangest part of the bonding was the sense of Marella in the back of his mind. Jarik could almost "feel" her presence, even when she had left the room to allow him to dress for the ride. She had returned with Saerane, whom Jarik was sure would not approve of an Accepted bonding a warder. Yet, somehow, the grey-haired Aes Sedai seemed to have almost been expecting it, from her lack of surprise when she was told.

Jarik twisted a bit in the saddle to get more comfortable; the wound ached slightly at the jostling of the horse. He looked at Marella, her dark hair hung down passed her shoulders and shone in the afternoon sunlight. She still wore the green dress he had given to her three days prior in Ebou Dar and looked every bit as beautiful as she had when she first put it on.

The road to Tar Valon was long, but Jarik had no doubt they would reach the city safely. What would happen once they arrived, he had no idea. All he cared about was being with Marella, and making sure she would always be safe.


End file.
